Requests: Open! | Sometimes, a man just gotta write half-naked men beating the shit out of each other and occasionally kiss. | Credits for the current cover is on the INFO page. |
Note: Changed the request a bit hope that's fine! Also changed Bull's name to Tarkan!
Warning; Alcohol usage mentioned, lore-bits(Well ... lore-bits I made up),
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Around the early 2000s, WVBA experienced a shortage of boxers.
With Doc retiring many of the other boxers follow suit (Or in extreme cases forced out), either helping out with families or splitting to start their own business
Samuel Johnson (better known by his boxer name, Mr.Dream,), the CEO of WVBA at the time, had thought that hosting matches outside of the US would not only bring in new boxers but also widen their audience.
Their first event was hosted in 2001, in London ...
... The bar was small and uptight, it's a miracle it was able to fit more than ten people at a time, let alone fifteen large boxers, but it did so with little room to spare.
Much to the discomfort of Tarkan.
He has no idea why he agreed to join the others tonight, he knew he wasn't going to enjoy himself. Most of the people he was there with were newbie boxers or some he didn't peculiarly know well. He doesn't drink and even if he did, he couldn't now thanks to his injury.
Training couldn't have gotten any worse. It was raining, and Tarkan was going off a few hours of sleep every night. Nehir warned him about training Egemen, the biggest bull they had. Tarkan, foolish enough not to listen to her, fought the bull.
Next thing he knew he woke up in a hospital bed, his upper hip in toiling pain as nurses informed him about the accident.
He should be thankful, not only for surviving but also for the wound not forcing him into retirement.
He's not.
If anything, he might've preferred retirement, instead of his embarrassing ranking. Barely the Minor Circuit champion, became champ by decision at that too, shouldn't even be counted for. Oh the Great Bald Bull, a name that Tarkan once wore with pride, now just fills the man with shame.
Tarkan just watches the others, chatting and laughing with each other as he sulks away in the corner.
Why is he even still here?
He should've left hours ago, he shouldn't even join at all.
Rain pours heavily outside, it'll be a rough walk back to the hotel, but Tarkan is willing to risk it.
With a hefty sigh, Tarkan tightens his hood. As he gets up from his seat, a tall man, wet from the rain outside but still sounding merry as he greets some of the others.
